Demon Brat
by BronzeMonsoon
Summary: Pain is Damian's friend, his closest companion. Damian learned to embrace pain with open arms, like a long-lost friend. But that's physical pain. Emotional pain however, is as much as a stranger to Damian as his father, who doesn't accept all of him (or any of him, if he's being honest). Damian doesn't know how to handle emotional pain. And he's certainly not going to ask for help.
1. Chapter 1

"Grayson…what is it that you wish for most?"

Dick paused in grabbing his cereal (his favorite cookie cereal, he thought despairingly. He knew somehow that he wouldn't get a chance to finish it) With a look of resignation on his face Dick regretfully placed his (Precious) cereal on the counter top. He turned to face Damian, eager to talk to his baby brother, but also eager to eat his breakfast. Patrolling ran late last night, and Dick didn't get to eat dinner and he was _starving._ Dick sighed having a feeling he wouldn't get the chance to grab his sugary treat

"Why do you ask?" Dick wanted to see what his youngest brother was getting at before he decided if he would answer the question. You had to be careful with handing out information like that in this family. Last time Dick thoughtlessly answered a question of Damian's the kid had flown to China to "Personally massacre" the people who tortured animals before eating them, because they believed that the adrenalin made the meat taste better. He ended up getting along famously with several animal rights activists in that area and had been invited to come visit them whenever he pleased. Never the less, he had ended up terrifying his entire family (Talia not included) because they had no idea where the kid was. It was only when they Batfam saw a picture of Damian on CNN with the title "Billionaires son suspected for arson of a Chinese meat supply plant" did they realize what'd happened.

The brat had pulled the same stunt many times in the U.S on people he knew were animal abusers, however at least they knew where he was when that happened. Damian was grounded for a month after that incident, and Dick learned to think before he spoke. It's not like Damian was the only one who Dick had to be careful with,

Hell, Jason used to-

"I want Jason to come back." Dick replied before he could stop himself.

"Todd? Why?' Damian scoffed derisively. "He's just a useless traitor- "

"DON'T YOU DARE TALK ABOUT JASON LIKE THAT" Dick interrupted with a shout. Dick's posture had turned threatening, his eyes blazing with rage as a red flush creeped up his face.

Damian took a step back, his past training forcing him into a defensive stance unconsciously.

"Why do you defend him?" Damian questioned, confused and angry, yet also…hurt. Grayson had never gotten this angry with him before, no matter what he had said or done. Damian had thought Grayson cared for him, but apparently the "Demon Brat" was not worthy of his affections. Deep down, Damian's insecurities caused him to believe all the snide comments made by Drake and Todd about his past.

Damian may act tough, and he is rather mature for his age- which is unsurprising considering what his life has been like, but he is still just a child. He was still only human and he had feelings too. His past "occupation" heavily discouraged such weak things as emotions, and being the grandson of Ra's al Ghul as well as the heir to an underground empire put him in the spotlight. There were no allowances for weakness. One time Damian had smiled and thanked one of his mother's servants for bringing him water after a training session. He later received a letter in the mail informing him that that servant had been kidnapped and would be tortured to death if he did not give the kidnappers $350 million by the end of the week.

Distraught, Damian went to his mother and promptly explained the situation to her. Talia merely gazed at her son and said "This is your fault. Let this be a lesson to you that emotions will only hurt yourself and others. In this line of work there is no room for weakness."

Damian was traumatized and from then on, ruthlessly worked on suppressing his emotions. He still tracked down the kidnappers and killed them, but not before asking what happened to the servant. On finding out that she was raped, then beaten to death Damian stabbed both men in the stomach, ensuring an excruciating death as the stomach acid ate away at the wound.

However, just because one refuses to acknowledge emotions does not mean they go away. Grayson's anger had brought up feelings he'd thought he'd abandoned a long time ago. He felt more feelings in response to those emotions, so Damian tried to distract himself from the hurt by focusing on the conversation.

"Why do you defend him?" Damian questioned, adding betrayal to the list of unwanted emotions he was feeling right now. "Todd's just a useless traitor, a failed Robin who couldn't even die right- "

"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK ABOUT JASON THAT WAY?! HE'S MY BROTHER, MY FAMILY! HE WAS ROBIN BEFORE YOU WERE EVEN BORN, AND HE'S A BETTER MAN THAN YOU'LL EVER BE! SURE, HE'S KILLED BUT ATLEAST IT WAS OUT OF A SENSE OF MORAL OBLIGATION AND NOT BECAUSE SOMEONE PAID HIM TO! AT LEAST BRUCE WANTED HIM! JASON WASN'T TAKEN IN BECAUSE BRUCE HAD TO! BRUCE WANTED JASON! BRUCE **NEVER** WANTED YOU!"

Damian felt like Grayson had taken a katana to his stomach. He flinched as Grayson practically shrieked the last part of his rant. 'Repress your thoughts. Do not feel. Feelings get people killed. Grayson's right. About all of it. Repress, Repress RepressRepressrepressrepressrepress.' He repeated those words like a mantra inside his head. Damian saw Grayson open his mouth, presumably to shout more. Damian knew that his composure would not last another round so he decided to distance himself from the argument.

"I see that you have decided to divulge not only your greatest wish, but also your true opinion." Damian spoke with feigned indifference, that was further emphasized by his formal way of speaking. Damian had reverted to Ibn al Xu'ffasch. Prince of the Al Ghul's. Little did Damian know, that some of his hurt was visible in his ice blue eyes.

Dick noticed Damian's hurt and began to feel guilt for his words. He started to apologize.

"Dami- "

But before he could finish Damian interrupted him. "You do not need to feign affection anymore Grayson. You have made your feelings known, an action I am thankful for."

Dick really felt like a piece of shit at that moment. He didn't mean any of the things he'd said. He merely felt protective over Jason because in Dick's mind he had already failed Jason once. 'But still,' he thought. 'What I just said was inexcusable.

"Look Dami- "

He said repeating his previous attempt to apologize to his youngest brother, ('My baby brother' he thought with growing horror, starting to grasp the consequences of his actions. 'My baby brother who is just a child') only to be cut off once more.

"Save your false platitudes Grayson!" Damian snarled, having given up on indifference. "You don't have to pretend anymore!" 

And with that final remark Damian leapt out the kitchen window (It was installed for Alfred so that he could grow some herbs in the kitchen), ignoring Grayson's shouts to come back. He quickly barricaded the window shut with a few well-placed kunai and began his escape from Wayne Manor- from Grayson. The last thing he heard before he disappeared into the shadows of the nearby forest was a panicked cry of his name.

" **DAMIAN"**

Damian continued running through the woods for about an hour. While Damian may have been extremely fast, his father's estate was enormous. Measuring over 5,000 acres of untouched forest. Luckily the manor was close to the city, which was where Damian was heading. Damian paused on top of a branch. He was sure he would not be followed. By the time, Grayson got out of the manor he had already disappeared, and one of Damian's first lessons in assassination was on how to cover his tracks.

When Damian demanded to know why he had to learn this (He was 3 and full of delusions of what assassins did) his mother replied in an unimpressed tone "Sometimes one must run away, especially assassins, so Ibn you will be able to run away properly." Not wanting to insult his mother since that led to two days without food, Damian threw himself into the art of the "Tactical Retreat" and was soon able to cover tracks in all terrains. And when Damian said "all terrains" he meant _ALL_ Terrains.

His mother was nothing if not thorough in his training. Damian had been dumped in the middle of Antarctica with some supplies and clothes, and told he had an hour before his mother's men began hunting him. If Damian was caught the consequences would be severe. If he could avoid them for 3 days, then he would be able to start weapons training when he got back. Those three days were brutal, with Damian nearly being caught a multitude of times. At one point, Damian was so desperate he dove into the ocean and hid under an Iceberg for 3 minutes straight. For a while after that Damian was terrified of swimming, something his Talia immediately noticed and decided to rectify via forced exposure.

Damian wasn't sure what he was going to do once he got to Gotham city. Leaving was not an option. Grayson had probably informed Bruce ('My father' Damian thought. My father who doesn't want me, who was forced to take me in') what had happened. Bruce would be checking every way out of the city. Damian would never be able to leave without being noticed. No, the best bet was to remain in Gotham, until Batman (It hurt too much to call him Bruce or Father) was distracted enough for Damian to escape. Damian had several hideouts in Gotham. The most well-stocked and best defended was in the slums of Gotham. Damian figured it was his best bet. It was deep enough into the slums to be avoided, but close enough to the wealthy for there to be little crime. In the safe house, (a one bedroom apartment that Damian had modified to fit his high paranoid standards) there was about $300,000, weapons, food, emergency first aid, a motorcycle, fake ID's, Passports, disguises, animal feed, and changes of clothes. Plus, it was one of the hideouts that Damian was sure Bruce didn't know about.

'It's settled then' Damian thought to himself. Damian decided to take the sewers. It would allow him to pass unnoticed, and Batman would most likely be checking the rooftops for Damian. Everyone thought that Damian thought himself too good for things like the sewers or cheap cars as escape routes, little did they know that Damian knew what true desperation was and that sometimes, you needed to make due with whatever you could get your hands on.

"Damn it" Damian muttered, as the gravity of the situation hit him.

Damian had no idea what to do after he got to his safe house. Sure, he had a lot of supplies both there, and other places, but eventually he would run out. Contacting his mother was out of the question. She would drag him back to his grandfather, and Damian had no desire to be Ibn again.

He decided that once he got to his safe house he would become someone else. Damian knew how to put on a disguise. When he was 8 he'd spent 4 months pretending to be a girl in a sex-trafficking ring. This was so he could get close enough to his targets who "liked them young".

He wasn't sure if he wanted to change his gender though, last time was an extremely uncomfortable experience. His name would definitely have to change, as well as his age, and personality. Damian decided to keep himself young enough so that he didn't have to "date" someone, but old enough that the if he absolutely had to he'd be able to. Damian chose the age 15 as that seemed about right. He would alter his appearance accordingly based on the birth certificates and ID's when he got home.

When Damian arrived in the city, he immediately chose the largest crowd he could find and blended into it. Once the crowd had walked past an alley way with no security cameras, Damian turned down the alley way, an expression of disgust emerging as he took in its filthy state. He quickly located the sewer hatch and propped it open. Damian flinched at the smell wafting up, so he put on a mask he had stored (God knows where) and climbed down.

'I'm going to have to burn the shoes' Damian decided the moment his feet hit the sewer ground. The sewer was absolutely repulsive and the yellow glow the few lights produced did nothing to hide that fact.

Damian had studied maps of the Gotham sewer system before. As an ex-assassin, he'd used the sewers to escape quite a few times. Though since joining…. Batman he hadn't had to. There were actually a lot of things Damian hadn't had to do since he'd joined B-

'Stop thinking about him you idiot' Damian thought to himself.

Shaking his head, Damian continued his lonely trek through the sewer, resigned to the fact that he'd lost the family he'd only just gained.


	2. Chapter 2

Physical pain was a sensation Damian was intimately familiar with.

Pain was Damian's lover, it completed him, made him focus, used him, made him stronger, smarter **better.** Damian was no stranger to pain. They had been together for his entire life. Damian had heard the stories the nurses used to tell- of the day he was born. As Damian emerged from his mother covered in blood and screaming (roaring, a nurse whispered frighteningly, _**roaring**_ _like a_ _ **Lion**_ _, like a_ _ **Demon**_ _fresh out of Hell_ ) his eyes would not open.

Frustrated with her child's apparent "weakness", Talia had quickly grown angry with her infant.

"SHUT UP" she had screamed at him, only prompting him to cry harder and harder as he sensed the anger coming from his mother. Eventually his mother had gotten fed up and slapped him. Her infant, her _baby_ who was only a couple minutes old. _Shehadslappedhimandithurtithurtsomuchknowingeventhenshehadn'twantedhim,evenifhecouldn'trememberitheknewitwastrueandithurtsodamnmuch._ (1).

So _yes,_ Damian knew physical pain very well, but emotional pain- was a stranger to him. Damian knew how to hide and mask and ignore physical pain (even though it _hurthurthurt_ and t wouldn't stop and he felt _hatehatehate_ towards the bestower). He even eventually learned to accept it (the screams turned into laughs, insane laughs that were _mad_ and _broken_ and _hysterical_ and had _no place_ belonging to a _**child**_ ).

Damian had been raised to believe that emotional pain was an illusion for the weak. Even though emotional pain still _hurthurthurt_ it wasn't the right kind of hurt and so he was **weak** for feeling it, **weaker** for acknowledging it, and **even weaker** if he expressed it.

Damian refused to be _weak_. That servant was _weak_ , his targets were _weak_ , civilians were _weak._ But Damian was **strong.** He would **survive** , he would win, he would **dominate.**

Physical pain made you strong, it kept you alive, it taught its own unique lessons- lessons that Damian would never forget. Could never forget, because they were instilled into his very being, they were what he _was_ to a certain extent.

Damian had never met anyone who had completely accepted him. He had known people who accepted his bloodlust- _loved_ it even because it was so untamable, like a tornado. But never had he met anyone who had all of him.

Damian checked his location using the map he had. He sighed in relief when he realized he was below his safe-house. Damian looked around for the ladder he knew was there. Once he'd spotted it, the metallic sheen looking nearly yellow in the poor sewer lighting, he immediately took out the device he had inside his backpack that allowed him to disable the security measures in any of his safe houses. Normal and magical. While Damian was nowhere near a master of the art, he was proficient in magic. The only time Damian had ever seen his mother actually smile, was when his grandfather had told her that he sensed magic in Damian.

Damian's family had been using magic for hundreds of years. It had been especially useful in assassinations. Damian was a Fire elemental, with a strong secondary Earth affinity. Damian knew several spells in all elements, but fire and earth were his strongest. Damian was also proficient in shadow magic, but only enough to hide for moderate periods of time. He was absolutely terrible at healing magic, as water is his weakest elemental affinity. Damian was also terrible at most aspects of divination.

Magic is how Damian is able to disguise himself (mostly). It allowed him to become a completely different person, however you had to keep a part of yourself. The better you were at magic the smaller it could be. Damian had heard of a sorceress who was so powerful that all she had to keep was a single freckle. 

When Damian first started shape-shifting (or shaping as it's called by most of the magical community) The only thing he could change was a strand of hair. Now with hundreds of hours of intense practice he could get it down to his eyes, which were easily changed with eye color contacts.

The reason Damian wasn't able to leave even with the eye-contacts is because there's a series of wards surrounding Gotham. Anyone trying to enter or leave Gotham would have their glamour's and charms temporarily dispelled. Then Damian would be caught. And he refused to go back again. Not to the Wayne Manor. Not to Bruce, Dick, even Drake. Hell, once Damian had found someone to smuggle him out, he would never go back to Gotham either.

Titus would be joining him soon. Damian had activated the alarm on his collar that let Titus know to come. The magic in the collar would guide Titus here while subsequently deactivating any trackers Titus may have on him.

Now that the wards and security systems were told to expect him (Yes "told"- the wards were semi-intelligent, not like a person, but more like Siri), Damian could enter his safe-house, without threat of immediate and painful death. Damian was not afraid of death, however dying at the hands of one's own traps was disgraceful.

Damian quickly climbed up the ladder, inwardly cringing at how dirty it was. Damian internally resolved to clean this section of the sewers as soon as he was able. It was a heavy task, but Damian was nothing if not determined and persistent. He also had a grudge against filth a mile long. Filth could be dirt and grime, or it could be whoever Damian hated on that particular day, it honestly depended on his mood.

As Damian reached the top of the ladder he paused, listening for any sign of life topside. When he didn't hear anything that gave away life, he cast a spell and listened again, nothing. Satisfied Damian propped open the storm drain. And quickly climbed outside.

After a cursory glance around the deserted alley, Damian made a quick dash across the pavement and then up the fire escape, before landing on his safe-houses windowsill. He pressed his finger against the glass, before there was a small magic pulse and the window opened itself, allowing Damian inside.

Damian dropped silently onto the hardwood floors (carpet was easily dirtied and usually quite ugly). He looked around before he said aloud "Procedure 687-Alpha-Code Blue". There was a pause before a feminine voice responded "Yes Master Damian, casting anti-tracking, repelling, masking, and Defense wards level 3."

After the wards had responded, Damian allowed himself to relax, his shoulders lowering slightly. He walked from the living room, into the moderately-sized kitchen. Damian opened the fridge and took out an apple. Damian smelled the apple, before determining the food preservation charms needed to be recast.

Damian scooped all of the food from the fridge and placed it in the trashcan, which was charmed to sort the waste and deliver it to the proper waste facility.

Damian sighed at the idea of having to go shopping so soon, but decided that it could wait, as he had about three weeks' worth of non-perishable items. 6 weeks if he stretched it. However, after a week his disguise should be ready to go, and Damian would be able to go out into the world again.

'Ah yes, there is a matter of my…job?' Damian mused. 'After all I can't simply stop fighting crime. An Al Ghul never surrenders unless it helps with a job, and I can't exactly leave all of my previous operations as Robin unchecked, that would be disastrous. I suppose I shall have to create a new identity. However, this requires intense consideration. I suppose my main power will have to be magic, as my fighting style is obvious to anyone who has fought with me.'

Satisfied with his decision for now, Damian decided to head over to the living room. Propping open a floor board, Damian pressed a button that would reveal his weapons inventory. A shelf rose up directly in front of where he was standing, revealing his weapons. Satisfied with their state, he lowered the shelf.

Damian walked over to his bedroom so he could change out of his battle gear. He examined his closet, before deciding on some black sweatpants, and a navy blue long-sleeved shirt. He placed his backpack on the floor beside his bead before putting his clothes in the wash.

Damian checked his watch. It read 12:17 in the afternoon. Damian walked into the kitchen and grabbed some food from the non-perishable cabinet. As he was about to open it, he realized it was meat. "Shit" he cursed. He wasn't a vegetarian when he'd stocked this place, and he'd forgotten to replace the food. He was going to need to go shopping sooner then he thought then.

Damian sighed before casting a glamour on himself. After doing so, he felt slightly nauseous as this glamour had been more extreme. Damian was now a 16-year-old girl with shoulder length chestnut brown hair and a round face. Damian changed into some …... appropriate clothing. This included underwear, denim jeans, a T-shirt for a band he didn't know, and a jacket that he zipped up to hide the fact that he didn't wear a bra. Damian placed on some boots (that were the right size) grabbed some cash from the safe hidden inside the couch and headed out. Once again climbing down as Damian's physical ability remained with this body. Once Damian had reached the ground he headed out into the streets of Gotham.

Damian muttered a quiet spell to ensure he wouldn't be bothered as he headed towards the nearest grocery store. He avoided bumping into people as he didn't want to attract attention.

Damian quickly made it to the grocery. As he walked in he noticed the cameras that were lining the stores ceiling. He tensed slightly. 'Get ahold of yourself!' he scolded himself. 'You're disguised. No one knows it's you.'

Damian relaxed his muscles and grabbed a shopping cart. He knew he was going to need a lot of food. He grabbed fresh fruits and vegetables first before getting flour, baking soda, vanilla, and sugar. Then he strolled down the aisle that held dairy and grabbed some milk, cheese and yogurt. Damian grabbed a few more items and walked over to the checkout. Once he had paid for the groceries, he thanked the cashier, said that "no he didn't need help carrying this stuff thank you" and left.

As Damian was walking home he heard a suspicious sound coming from the alley to his right. Damian placed his groceries by a dumpster, casting a charm so no one would take them and walked into the alley to investigate.

The further Damian got into the alley, the easier it was to hear what was happening. Damian felt blood rush in his ears as he heard the sound of someone screaming. The voice sounded young, and as Damian got closer he realized it was a little boy.

Though the boy couldn't have been much younger than Damian himself, he was clearly a civilian. The boy was surrounded by teens older than him. All athletic looking, but clearly none of them had been in a real fight or had any formal training before.

"You little fucker!" Teen number 1 shouted. He had dirty blonde hair, beady eyes, and looked like he was permanently hunched over.

"Who do you think you are, disrespecting us by not giving us our money!?" another teen shouted.

Damian decided enough was enough and quickly attacked.

He sprinted forwards gracefully on long legs, reaching teen number 1 in seconds. Teen number 1 gave a startled shout as a body barreled into him. Four rapid-motion punches to the face knocked him out.

Teens 2 and 3 gave an angry roar as they watched their accomplice get knocked out by a girl their age. They quickly charged Damian but were quickly taken out with a bone-shattering kick to the knee, and a harsh chop to the side of the neck. They fell like a puppet with its strings cut, gasping in pain.

Damian glanced up to see teen number 5 trying to run away. Damian picked up a nearby piece of trash (A metal water bottle with a hole in it) and hurled it at the bully with deadly accuracy, striking him in the back of the head and knocking him unconscious.

Damian turned to the boy, who despite his battered appearance seemed to be well enough to stand. They boy was looking at him with an awe filled expression.

Damian turned to leave and get his groceries, but was stopped when the boy started talking to him.

"W-why did you help me?" He stuttered nervously

"I despise filth. I simply wanted to exterminate some bacteria." Damian said, his cold tone contrasting strangely with his high voice.

"O-Oh" The boy stuttered. "W-well thank you for saving me" he continued as he smiled shyly at Damian.

"Take my advice, sign up for a martial art. This is Gotham, not a Californian country- side." Damian felt himself trying to help the boy more though he didn't know why.

"S-sure thing" the boy said looking determined. "What's your name?" The boy asked. "My name is Aidan" he prompted when Damian said nothing.

"My name is none of your concern. However, Aidan do me a favor and get strong enough to protect yourself." Damian stated. Aidan's face had fallen, but he quickly steeled himself and nodded quickly.

"Uh-huh, I'll get really strong" he stated (but it sounded like a promise, one that Damian himself had made a long long time ago).

"Good." And with that Damian faded into the shadows, grabbed his groceries, and continued walking home.

AN:

Um please review I guess? I mean you don't have to, but it makes me happy when you do. Thanks for checking my story out, I really appreciate it. If you didn't like it please tell me why, so I can determine what I need to improve. FYI Damian is 12 almost 13, and this is a GEN fic. There will be no pairings. This may change in the future but not for Damian.

Regards,

Lily.


	3. Chapter 3

Grey. Everything in Gotham is _grey_. The sky, the buildings, even peoples _skin_ had an unhealthy grey tone to it. Damian didn't mind grey. He was neutral towards it, much like the color itself is neutral.

Damian had seen people come to Gotham, full of color, of internal _brightness_. The harshness of Gotham and its people soon doused that internal flame. Those who managed to keep their brightness soon learned to hide it, to only show it to those they trusted.

Damian was creative, he liked to paint, to sketch, to take photos. He had never shown _anyone_ his sketch book. It was hidden in his room at the Wayne manor, and the moment anyone other than him tried to touch it, they would have to fast to avoid burns as the book would set on fire. Damian already had backups of all of his sketches saved, so that he wouldn't lose them in the event of his sketch book spontaneously combusting.

Damian kind of hoped Drake would be the one to try and open it. He still hadn't forgiven him or Todd for giving him the nickname "Demon Brat". It brought up many unwanted memories. However, Damian gave as good as he got, and he believed that insults were an art that had to be practiced frequently lest one get rusty.

Damian increased his pace as he headed towards his safe house. He wanted to avoid using magic as much as possible for as long as possible to avoid unnecessary attention.

Damian decided to not use this disguise again, as surely someone would see the footage of him using magic in the alley-ways security camera and come looking for him. He would have to find a new disguise and work on integrating that disguise into society. Nothing major of course, just give him some school records, introduce himself to a few people, and then find someone to smuggle him across Gothams borders.

Damian was trying to come up with a new name for himself when he suddenly bumped into someone, forcing him to drop his groceries. He was surprised because his spell should have prevented that, and he was caught off-guard, something that almost never happens.

"Shit" Damian cursed when he noticed his groceries scattered all around him. He immediately dropped into a graceful crouch to pick up the spilled items, ignoring the man in front of him.

"You should watch where you're going" a deep male voice above him stated.

"Maybe I wouldn't have to if you weren't such an ignorant buffoon." Damian shot back, he stood up from his crouch, finished with his groceries.

He glanced up at the man he had bumped into. His eyes flew open in shock when he recognized the man.

"See something you like?" the newly identified _Jason Todd_ smirked.

Damian had to rely on years of training to not throw up all over the street in front of him. It was still a close call. _Jason_ was _flirting_ with him. Of course, Jason had no idea who he was, if he knew it was Damian he'd probably immediately commit suicide once the shock had worn off. Jason was many things. But a man attracted to twelve-year-old boys he was not. Jason wasn't even seriously flirting with his form, as it was obvious she was underage. Though Jason was starting to look slightly offended at the disgusted face the strange girl in front of him was making.

"Kindly desist with your disgusting remarks _Todd_." Damian hissed out. His eyes widened in horror when he realized he had given away that he knew Todd.

"Damian!?" Jasons eyes had widened at the same time as Damian's. He'd recognize that disgusted tone of voice paired with that expression anywhere, the use of his last name confirmed it. "W-what the hell!?" he stammered taking in Damian's new appearance. "H-how the hell!?" he asked, referring to the fact that it should be impossible for Damian to look or sound like that.

"None of your concern Todd, it is my business what I do in my spare time." Damian delivered with an unimpressed tone. He couldn't cast a spell in front of all of these people and he was trying to figure out the best way to get away from Todd, preferably with his damn groceries. _For fucks sake,_ he just wanted to eat.

"You normally cross-dress in order to avoid Dick and Bruce in your spare time?" Jason asked sarcastically with the barest hint of genuine curiosity.

Damian was slightly offended at the genuine curiosity.

"C'mon kid you've had everyone panicking. Titus's disappeared and your book blew up in the replacements face when he tried to open it, not to mention all of your weapons are gone and _no one_ can track you."

Damian felt a strong sense of vicious glee when he learned that it was indeed Drake who had tried to open his book. That glee turned into smugness when Jason admitted to not being able to track him.

"I'm not going back." Damian stated with a dead tone.

Jason flinched slightly because _that was what his eyes looked like sometimes_. His eyes when he was remembering the _Lazarus Pits_ , remembering his _death_. Those eyes didn't belong _anywhere_ on a kids face. Especially not when that kid is talking about his _family._

'Oh Bruce' Jason sighed internally 'what have you done now?'

"Why?" Jason asked. It was such a simple question, it should be easy to answer with a "Fuck Off Todd" but for some reason Damian had to fight the sob that was crawling up his throat.

Damian's eyes started to turn watery, and before he knew it, the brief loss of concentration had caused his spell to drop. Leaving him standing there, in clothes too big for him holding his _fucking_ groceries and about to cy in front of _Jason Todd,_ the person Grayson -hell everyone- loved more than him.

Jason was looking properly horrified when he noticed Damian was about to cry. That feeling was only reinforced when he saw Damian shift into his actual body. Damian seemed to be trying to say something, but he couldn't tell what it was. Jason watched Damian's eyes widen in realization, then turn so very blank.

They were blank, ( _nofeelingwhatsoeverohmygod_ ) like a machine, like POW survivors, and it was _wrongwrongwrong_ because Damian was only a _child_. God, he was _so young_ so why was he displaying signs of emotional conditioning.

Jason took a hesitant step towards Damian, only to fly forward when he noticed the kid beginning to mumble something in another language under his breath.

"DAMIAN" Jason shouts warningly, but it's too late. In a blaze of fire Damian disappears (with his fucking groceries, because Jesus Fuck, if Damian had left his groceries behind he wasn't sure he could guarantee the lives of anyone in Gotham).

"SHIT"


	4. Chapter 4

Jason stumbled as the person he was reaching for disappeared, the beginnings of an all-consuming panic beginning to grip him. He looked around desperately trying to locate the missing child (God damn it. Damian is just a _child_ ) and when he found nothing let out a short bellow of rage that attracted many annoyed and frightened glances from the other people on the streets.

Jason was wondering why no one was reacting to a kid vanishing in a burst of fire, because that's not normal, even in Gotham. Then he remembered Damian's strange muttering before he disappeared.

'It can't be…. magic?' he thought disbelievingly to himself. 'But Damian doesn't have magic, pissed at me or not Bruce would have mentioned it if he did.' Then Jason recalled the _deaddeaddead_ look in Damian's eyes, and gave an involuntary flinch. 'Then again maybe Damian didn't tell him. It's not like Bruce was subtle about his dislike for magic.'

While Jason was musing, he slipped into one of the Alley-ways. He needed to make some calls. The Demon Brat needed to go home before Dickie-Bird had a stroke. But if Jason found out the kid was being abused…. **Heads. Would.** _ **Roll**_ **.**

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"Shit!" Damian cursed sharply as he crashed into the ground of the living room of his safe-housed, his groceries spilling out of their plastic confinements and rolling away in random directions, like they were fleeing from something dangerous. His knees slammed into the wooden tiles with bruising force, as he instinctively forced his body to do a summersault to avoid the worst of an impact that would've shattered his hands.

Damian let out a sigh that was closer to a growl as he scanned his surroundings. Deeming himself safe he allowed himself to relax minutely. Why did he run into Todd? It couldn't simply be bad luck, Todd usually frequents seedier neighborhoods and the store Damian had gone to was in one of the few middle-class areas. Filled with ex-cops and people like doctors and lawyers, it managed to be one of the somewhat "kid friendly" parts of Gotham. Though in any other city it would be considered extremely dangerous like Damian himself.

Wincing as he felt bruises start to form, Damian put the groceries away and pulled out an ice pack to place on his knees. The impact had hurt, and Damian had no doubt his knees would be a disgusting shade of purple the when he woke up tomorrow. Usually a fall from that height wouldn't make Damian blink, with enough forewarning and a bit of magic he could jump from the top of Wayne Enterprises and land unscathed, however his panic in teleporting had caused him to mess up, and Damian hated failure.

He stalked towards his bedroom, peeling off his too-large clothes and exchanging them for comfortable pajamas. He dropped onto his bed, exhausted from the stress of the day, and how much magic he had wasted because he screwed up the teleportation spell. In less than 5 minutes he had dozed off into a light, but peaceful sleep.

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"Shit!" Jason cursed himself for letting the brat get away. He had been so close to grabbing him, a couple more steps and this disaster could have been over with within a day (Had it really only been a day?) but he had failed, and who knows when he would see the kid again? The kid was one paranoid son of a bitch (He was referring to both parents at that point), and now that he had food, he'd lay low for a while. Not to mention the fact that the kid could shape-shift. That would make it almost fucking impossible to find him, and Jason really did not want to deal with the rest of the Wayne clan.

Tim was throwing a bitch fit because that kids' diary or something had apparently attacked him and won. Grayson was giving off enough angst to drown the entire city, and Bruce was just pissed off as usual. Jason did _not_ want to deal with any of their shit, more so than usual. He didn't give a damn if the kid ran away, as long as he wanted to leave, but after seeing that _look_ Jason had to make sure that the kid wasn't abused or something.

Because Jason was a piece of shit, who would kill worse pieces of shit in a fucking heartbeat and still sleep like a damn baby afterwards, but he was _not_ a child abuser. He may not like the kid, but he was still just that- a kid. So, Jason would get more info before he acted. If the kid _was_ abused, Gotham would be down a couple of heroes and Jason would have a Demon Brat to smuggle out of the city. If not Jason would let the kid be, he always was one who could appreciate a good teenage rebellion.

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Damian's head was a drum, his legs were noodles, and his eyes were vats of acid. He groaned as the sunlight agitated his eyes even more. He arose from his bed, much less gracefully then he would have under normal circumstances as he stumbled like a new born fawn to his dresser. He slipped out of his old clothes as quickly as possible, with which how he was feeling was roughly the same speed as an 80-year-old turtle with three legs and a muscular disorder. At least, it felt like that to him. To anyone else it would have seemed a perfectly normal time.

Damian hobbled unsteadily to his bathroom, where he had to stop and grasp the door knob for a few seconds in order to avoid falling over.

'What's happening to me?' Damian wondered with a lakes worth of liquid anxiety in the form of stomach acid gathering in his esophagus. He lurched toward his toilet before unleashing several torrents of vomit.

Rivulets of salty tears streamed down his face in response to the burning in his throat and Damian felt even worse in response to his self-perceived weakness. He coughed and gagged, trying to dispel the remains of the bile inside his stomach.

Damian tried to stand up, but just as he managed to lift himself off the hardwood floor of his bathroom, a wave of nausea struck him before he crashed to the ground and knocked himself unconscious, the smack ringing out throughout the apartment.

AN: I'm sorry this took so long, I have no excuse. I fell into a slump and I hope you can forgive me. Thank you to everyone who stuck with this story despite my absence. And to new readers: Welcome. Thank you to everyone who gave my story a shot.


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